


A Tale of Sorcery: The Dark Wizard Schezo

by ReclusiveKama



Category: Adventure - Fandom, Puyo Puyo (Video Games), 魔導物語 | Madou Monogatari Series (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Dark Fantasy, Fantasy, Horror, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21992509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReclusiveKama/pseuds/ReclusiveKama
Summary: An AU novelization project of the second and third Madou Monogatari games. It follows the same story structure but with differentiation along the way as well as expanded lore.  This chronicles Arle's first meeting with Schezo!
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	1. Prologue

_Chronicled History of the_ _Madou_ _Continent_

 _\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_0 G.D - The Gods depart the Mortal Plane. The War of the Creators comes to an end_

_100 G.D - The mortal races re-emerge_ _from underground_

_120 G.D - The Rise of Nendos. The elves reclaim their ancestral homeland_

_152 G.D - Humanity’s Return. T_ _wo_ _great human kingdoms_ _are forged._ _Augustus_ _a_ _nd Valheim._

_153 G.D - The_ _demi-human kingdom of Solidere is established_

_155 G.D - Worship of the Gods Return. Restoration of the Ten Temples_

_160_ _G.D -_ _Age of Prosperity_

_3_ _00 G.D - Augustus becomes a Republic_

_3_ _20 G.D - The borders of Augustus expand_

_3_ _2_ _8_ _G.D - Solidere forcefully merges with the Republic_

_333 G.D -_ _Valheim_ _falls before the might of the Republic. The Augustus Empire is born_

_335 G.D - Beginning of The Great War. The Empire and Nendos_ _clash_

_355 G.D - The_ _Moreah_ _Treaty is signed._ _305_ _years of peace begin_

_635_ _G.D - The Treachery of Lilith. A human woman weds one of the_ _Daeva_

_638_ _G.D - Birth of the Dark Prince_

_658_ _G.D - The Dark Prince takes power. The demon races are unified_

_660 G.D -_ _Nendos_ _Burns! The Elves fall before the might of the Dark Legions_

_665_ _G.D - The Fall of Augustus. The armies of men are defeated_

_666_ _G.D - The Founding of the Dark Kingdom._ _Demons rule_ _over the conquered_ _territories_

_678 G.D - The_ _Bael Sect_ _is formed. Mortal worship of the_ _Demons_ _begins_

_698_ _G.D - The Holocaust of_ _Nendos_ _. Countless Elves and children are sacrificed to the Dark_ _Lord_

_745_ _G.D - The Solidere Massacre. Tens of thousands of people are killed_

_798_ _G.D - A Resistance is Formed. Rebel cells start appearing across the Dark Kingdom_

_802 G.D - The D_ _emon L_ _ord takes a human woman for a wife. The Resistance achieves its first victory_

_8_ _22_ _G.D -_ _Treachery from within! The Dark Lord’s heir joins the resistance._

_823 G.D -_ _Victory_ _at last_ _! The_ _Demon_ _Lord is slain. The Dark Kingdom collapses._

_82_ _5_ _G.D - The Old Kingdoms are restored._

_8_ _30_ _G.D - Persecution of the Bael Sect begins. Numerous worshipers are purged._

_850_ _G.D - The Great Wall of_ _Moreah_ _is built._ _Nendos_ _refuses any more relations with the Human Kingdoms_

_860 G.D - Age of Peace_

_1_ _2_ _16 G.D - A Border Dispute. A brief conflict between Augustus and Nendos erupts._

_1_ _23_ _1 G.D - Present Year_

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"27...28...29..."

Standing on a wheeled ladder, the shopkeeper counted off the tomes that aligned his eastern bookcase. He’d recently sold five books this morning and another three shortly after lunch. Logically that would mean he was now down eight but he was a meticulous sort. After all, despite his best efforts, even he couldn’t prevent the occasional grubby thief from snatching one when his back was turned. It was a monotonous task but he enjoyed it nonetheless. Pausing momentarily, he brushed the sweat trickling down his brow. The air in the store was hot and sticky, not a surprise considering the time of year. Continuing where he left off, he finished the top shelf and stepped down to the next. As his finger hovered over the 43rd tome, he heard the faithful ringing of his shop bell from the front. A customer!

"Hello? Anyone here?"

"One sec!" The shopkeeper cried. Descending the ladder, he quickly made his way to the front counter wherein he greeted his guest.

"Welcome to Kirin's One-Stop Shop! How may I be of service?"

He spotted her perusing some of the front shelves. Turning to face him, she responded...

"Yes, I was wondering if you had any..."

Once their eyes met, she was instantly at loss for words. Kirin wasn't surprised. He'd gotten many an odd look since he started his business. He was a small man, topping off at 4 feet and 6 inches with bright scarlet eyes, dirty blonde hair, and a bulb-shaped nose, traits he inherited from his mother. She was a battlefield nurse who treated POWs during the conflict 25 years ago. It was there she met his father, an elf from the sacred woods of Moreah, for which his bronze skin and long ears were accounted. In his father’s homeland, half-elves are viewed as abominations and are subsequently shunned, hence why he was raised in his mother’s homeland. The prejudice is still present here as many Augustians still view their eastern neighbors with contempt. Still, Kirin mused that most of his customers were more shocked at seeing a half-elf work retail than anything else (most just worked at guilds).

During this bout of silence, Kirin took the opportunity to get a closer look at the young lady. She was of average height with reddish-brown hair and gold eyes. Initially, he thought her hair cut short but spotted a ponytail flowing from the back, held in place by a blue band. She wore a white V neck sleeveless tunic bearing a red stripe down the center with a blue undershirt. On her left shoulder was a blue pauldron linked to a breastplate that rested over her left breast. Most tellingly, on both her wrists were gold armlets, the telltale signs of a mage. The rest of her ensemble was completed with a blue skirt and blue leather boots. All in all, she possessed a sort of boyish quality in form. Not bad looking but certainly not his type...

"Um...sorry...I..." she stammered out nervously. Kirin just chuckled and reassured her.   
"Don't worry, miss. I get it a lot. I'm used to it..." Resting his arms on the counter, he flashed her a sweet smile and asked: "What can I do for you?"

"I... I was wondering if you had any herbs and potions? I'm on my way to Corwin for a guild contract and figured it be smart to stock up..."   
"You work for an adventuring guild?" He asked with his left eyebrow raised.   
"Yep!" She answered with a smile. "The Puyo Hall! Have you heard of it?"   
Kirin shook his head "Afraid not." Kneeling to the bottom of the counter he brought up two boxes.

"How many do you need of what?"   
"Let's see...two herbs and three potions!"   
"Very well, but what kind of potions are you looking for?"   
"What kind ya got?"

Kirin opened the left box and placed three bottles on the counter. He explained: "Red restores vitality, Green restores stamina and Blue restores both.” He then looked her straight in the eye “as you may have guessed, the Blue is the most expensive..." The young lady pondered on the matter before giving her answer. 

"One of each please!"   
"Alright! That will come up to about 3 gold and 60 silvers."   
"Not a problem!" 

As Kirin packaged the goods, he noticed something while the lady was reaching for her coin purse. On her back, around the waistline, was a small scabbard holding what appeared to be a gilded dagger. A rather odd thing for a mage to be carrying. Placing the coins on the counter, he quickly counted them up before depositing them in the registry. As the young lady made her leave, he couldn't help but ask... 

"You sure you don't need anything else? Some chainmail or maybe a staff? The road to Corwin is fairly dangerous, even for a mage!" 

The young lady turned her head, confused. "How'd you know I was a mage?" Kirin smiled and pointed at her wrists. "Nearly all magi who pass basic academy wear those." The young lady gazed at the bracers, now self-conscious of their significance. Kirin continued. "The southern roads have become a haven for highwaymen and slave traders. We've put up contracts but no one seems interested in pursuing them..." The young lady mulled for a moment before returning a smile to the clerk. 

"If I come across any, I'll take care of them for ya!"   
"You're certain you'll be okay?" Nodding the woman answered   
"Don't worry! I can take care of myself!” Nodding, Kirn bade her farewell.  
“Very well then, blessings of the Ten upon you!” She returned the courtesy.  
“Likewise!” 

Departing from the shop, the woman placed her newly purchased goods into her traveling pack and went on her way. The day was hot with nary a cloud in sight, so much so that she’d be tempted to say it was beautiful if not for the choking humidity. Combined with the sun beating down on her, she mused she’d probably have a tan by the time she reached Corwin. She traversed the dirt path at a casual pace. She had completed seven guild contracts thus far and had found the trip more enjoyable than the work. All was quiet, save the soft sounds of her footsteps upon the dry soil. Stroking her sweaty hair, she began basking in her surroundings. The southern lands of Augustus were renowned for their beauty. Rolling fields of green, dotted with the occasional oak, and rivers extending out toward the sea. Beautiful indeed, but that also meant a whole lot of nothing, not that she minded, of course, seeing as how her hometown also had a lot of nothing... 

Losing herself in her walk, hours passed by and when she approached a patch of woods, the sun was starting to descend. The heat, however, remained strong. Crossing under the oaks, she spotted a large rock and seated herself. By no means comfortable but it will do, it helped that the shade from the trees left it slightly cool. Pulling a water bottle out of her pack, she chugged down what little was left, tossed it aside, and grabbed another. As the liquid rushed down her throat, she couldn’t help but take notice of something. Something rather nostalgic to her. Above her, birds chimed a wondrous song while the crickets chirped across the grass. Listening closer, she could hear the buzzing of bees, the rushing river water, and the distant croaking of frogs. It reminded her of the times she would camp out with her father when she was little, which brought a smile to her face. Pulling out her map, she studied to get an inkling as to where she might be. To her delight, she discovered that past these woods, Corwin was only a mile away. Determined to get there before nightfall, she rose and picked up the pace. Progressing deeper into the woods, the light from the sun grew fainter and soon enough, the sight of the rolling fields behind her was gone. It was by that time she began to hear a different kind of sound. A sound one normally doesn't associate with nature. 

Footsteps. 

Setting her pack to the ground, she readied herself. Who was it? The highwaymen? The slavers? A monster? Whichever the case, they'd soon discover she would not prove easy pickings! Surveying the area, she found no evidence of anyone, save herself. Still, this feeling she had. She couldn’t deny it... 

She was being watched... 

Just then, one of the tall oaks shook and as she turned to investigate, she discovered a figure leaping toward her. Without a moment's hesitation, she concentrated the ancient arts into her right palm and hurled them forward. 

"FIRE!!" 

A direct hit! The creature fell to the ground, engulfed in the blazing heat. It thrashed and wailed recklessly in a futile attempt to rid itself of the flame. It was indeed a monster, albeit an undead one. After all, nothing ignites like that other than bones. Gleaning through the fire, she discovered its features were distinctly reptilian and it sported a bipedal body structure. Not wanting to take any chances, the young lady hurled another fireball at her grounded adversary. The resulting blast ended whatever life (or unlife) was left in her attacker. As she approached it, the young lady then heard the unmistakable sounds of clapping behind her... 

"Amazing! Simply amazing! You did not even give him the chance to attack! Truly, an impressive feat!" 

Turning around she saw a young man dressed in bright clothing. His eyes were as cold as ice and his hair, short in length, consisted of silver waves. His robes, white in color, were long-sleeved, held together by a pair of blue shoulder guards. At the end of both sleeves were blue wrists guards and from his back, a white cape flowed wildly in the wind. The robes went down to his boots, also blue, but she was able to make out white pants underneath them. Last but not least, he wore a headband that shared the same familiar blue color as what came before. His attire was nigh identical to the uniform worn by Templars, knights who are sworn to safeguard temples. Indeed, the young lady was quite familiar with them as she served in a temple some years ago. What confused her though were the colors. None of the temples she knew of adopted white and blue! 

All in all, not an unattractive fellow by any means but that was beside the point. He stared at her with the most arrogant smirk she had ever seen... 

"Who are you?" She asked; her eyes now narrowed to a glare. "A Templar? A robber? A slaver?" The man merely chuckled in response. 

"I bear no allegiance to any of the gods nor do I deal in slaves. A robber on the other hand? I guess one might call me that..." 

What kind of answer was that? Irritation was starting to settle in. Though she wanted to attack, something about him stayed her hand. Odd as it sounded, she felt a strange sort of vibe from the man. He showed not the slightest hint of fear or hesitation and never broke his gaze off of her. No one would act so calm unless they had something up their sleeve. So, what was she to do? 

"What do you want?" She asked.   
"You"   
"Pardon?"   
"I want you, beautiful lady. All of you..." 

Such words elicited a blush from the young lady. She pretty? A ridiculous notion! She hardly received such compliments growing up, either at school or at home (her mother being the lone exception). She was a tomboy in every sense of the word! As a child, she liked playing in the mud, catching bugs, and preferred wearing boy clothes around the house. People like her are never regarded as pretty! Why else would the seniors at school give her the “wondrous” nickname... 

...Arseface... 

Still, what the hell? Is he a pervert? Exasperated but still blushing, the young lady responded... 

"So... you're some sorta creep then?" 

The accusation wiped away the man's ever-constant smirk. Snapping his fingers, a great light engulfed the area and just before it reached her, she made out the following words leave his lips... 

"You'll understand in time"... 


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello there! My name's_ _Arle_ _Nadja and I'm a mage!_   
  
_Where am I from you ask? Well, I_ _come_ _from Mattina, a tiny hamlet nestled in the_ _western_ _lands of Augustus. Following my sixth birthday, I was enrolled in the Morning Star Magic Academy. Not exactly the best place to spend your childhood I tell_ _ya!_ _We lived in dorms and_ _were_ _each assigned a roommate_ _._ _M_ _ine was a girl named Lala and we didn’t get along at first. Weekdays were spent studying while weekends were_ _your days off_ _, but_ _e_ _ven then,_ _you were encouraged to cram as much as you could. It wasn’t all bad though! The food was great and some of the teachers were nice, plus you were sent home for a month once every season..._

_At the end of my first year, I was chosen as the class representative for our initiation right._ _Y’ see_ _there was this rickety old tower in the back of the academy and my job was to clear it out as it became infested with monsters. Not the safest thing in the world for a six-year-old mind you, but the instructors had it planned out. They assigned an upper-classman to keep an eye on me as well as a couple merchants to lend aid ( though I still had to pay them). The senior in question, Camus, was the first boy I ever had a crush on! I thought he was so brave and cool at the time! Anyways, cleared the whole place out and even managed to get to the top I did! What I found up there though? It’s best left unsaid...even now I still have nightmares of it...still I passed, and that’s all that mattered! After that, Lala and I became the best of friends! I even befriended Camus, though our interactions were always brief. He was, after all,_ _two_ _years ahead of me._

_During my_ _senior_ _year, Lucifer, the founder, and headmaster of the academy took me under his wing. Basically, I followed him around with a clipboard, took notes and played_ _his_ _secretary for a year. He did teach mind you and I_ _’_ _ll say this; Master Lucifer was the toughest teacher I've ever had! If you messed up a spell or misspoke an incantation, you'd be practicing for the next 7 hours straight and woe unto you if had the misfortune of landing kitchen or bathroom duty (_ _those boys and their smeared crap on the walls_ _). Still, when you excelled, he made it no secret. I confess, even now, I_ _kinda_ _miss his lectures. On the other hand, I’ll never forget the night Lala and I broke into his liquor cabinet. Fun times..._

_I remember him, on graduation day, asking me if I was going to_ _enlist in the_ _Legion_ _._ _I REALLY didn't intend_ _to_ _but a small part of me was still on the fence about it_ _,_ _family expectations and all. He told me..._

_"...do yourself a favor and don't. I've known you for ten years now Miss Nadja and I can say with_ _the_ _utmost certainty, you are not fit for the Legion_ _. You are cut from a different cloth than the rest of your family and as someone who wants to see you excel, you have a better chance at accomplishing that by following_ _a_ _different path..."_

_A week later, my 16th birthday came and went. I registered with a guild and started fulfilling contracts. I now own a comfortable little place not far from my hometown and get to go on as many adventures as I want. I_ _couldn’t be any happier_ _honestly..._

“Wake up...” 

She heard it echoing across the endless darkness, a sound so low, one would register it as a whisper. Numbed of all senses save sound, she struggled with the meaning. Her mind was a confused haze and whatever information she gleamed shortly vanished into oblivion. She concentrated on the echoes, those ceaseless, unending echoes... 

“Wake up...” 

This time it was louder, though the meaning behind the words took a back seat to their source. That voice...she knew that voice! A sense of familiarity overcame her and she struggled to remember. Who’s was it?! As she pondered a shriek pierced through her head, commanding her for the final time... 

“WAKE UP!!” 

Opening her eyes, Arle was greeted to water dripping on her nose. Wiping it off, she rose off her back and sat cross-legged on the hard and wet floor. She felt nauseous and dizzy and the urge to vomit was present. Holding her head with both hands, she started counting to ten repeatedly until she was interrupted by the rumbling of her stomach. 

Lovely she thought. 

She hadn’t eaten anything since she set off for Corwin, a stupid move in hindsight. Still, how long had she been out? She last remembered her meeting with the silver-haired Templar and recalled him snapping his fingers, then a... white light was it? This whole situation made no sense dammit! Thankfully, her clothes were all accounted for, and there was no indication something...nefarious had taken place while she was unconscious. On the other hand, her traveling pack was now gone, as well as her dagger! 

If that pervert stole it, he’s a dead man... 

Rising from the damp floor, she looked around and discovered she was in a small room kept alit by three torchlights. In front of her was a massive steel door with a single barred window at the top. It was locked unsurprisingly. The walls consisted of dark brown rocks, chiseled crudely by someone she reckoned had no idea what they were doing. Every wall in the room played host to vines whilst the ceiling was completely covered in a green tangle, though they seemed to keep their distance from the torches. On the right side of the room was a pile of hay, presumably for sleeping and in the back was a perfectly chiseled basin, crafted from the same ugly minerals that held these walls together. With no way out and nothing else to do, Arle went back and investigated, though not without noticing how peculiar it felt when she walked... 

To her surprise, she discovered the basin filled with water! The water was clear, so clear in fact, one could make out the bottom. Taking a sniff, she smelled nothing out of the ordinary so time for a taste test! Sticking a finger in, she brought it up to her lips and licked. It was pure and fresh! T’would appear this was a natural water spring though what is was doing here of all places, she couldn’t say. Cupping her hands into the basin, Arle ingested as much water she could. Though hungry, liquids could stem the yearnings of the gut however brief and once she had her fill, she returned to the center of the room and sat, thinking on what her next move would be. Unbeknownst to her, it would not be long before a pair of voices started trickling into her cell... 

In the pantry, just down the hall from where Arle was held, two figures were unstocking the shelves. To the ignorant, they were an odd pair, not human clearly, and more monster than demi-human. The one in the front had purple skin, one eye, and a horn protruding from his forehead. He wore boiled leather armor and had a mace fastened to his hip. His name was Cho, a mercenary and senior of the two. He took to his work with less enthusiasm than his companion. 

“C’mon Cho, pick up the damn pace! Wizards gonna be back soon and once he’s done, we’re bailing! Boss wants out before sunrise...” 

Cho shot his comrade an angry look and responded... 

“Go fuck yerself, Issho” Issho however only chuckled. 

” Heh, I do every night, thank you...” Cho just groaned, Issho always had some sort of comeback, no matter how lame. Issho was a Lisian, a beast race from across the southern sea that resembled bipedal dragons. Issho was slightly shorter than Cho but made up for it with muscle. The two were not a particular sort, and as they started talking, their words would travel outside. They neglected to close the pantry door... 

"Why you think the Wizard didn’t finish this one up?" Issho asked   
"How the hell should I know?!” Cho retorted. “Maybe he couldn’t! Maybe she's just something special eh?" 

Cho started smacking his lips upon being reminded of their captive. He was with the black mage when they brought that lovely specimen in. He liked what he saw...what with that brown hair and petite body? He couldn’t deny his needle hardened when he ferried her to her cell. Alas, he was not allowed to be present during the ritual and now, he yearned to sample some of it. After clearing off the second to last shelf, his patience had finally given. 

“Let’s check up on the prisoner,” He declared whilst jingling the keyring in his left hand. 

“Why?” Issho asked confused 

“Because it’s our job stupid! Now come!” 

Leaving the pantry, Issho didn’t even bother closing the door and just grabbed his lance. Arriving at their destination, the two sentries peeked in and found their charge seemingly passed out on the floor. His urges getting the better of him, Cho plugged in the cell keys and opened the door. Issho however objected... 

“Are you crazy?!" He cried quietly. His comrade simply flashed him a lewd smile.   
"Ah, dun be such a bitch. Been waiting hours for this..."   
"Wizard's gonna kill you if he finds out!" Cho just shrugged   
"He ain't finding out..." 

Lowering himself to the floor, Cho lifted the girl's skirt and peeked while Issho reluctantly watched. A pair of underwear blocked the prize but his imagination simply ran wild! He was seeing it and by the gods was it beautiful! He stretched his hand in and just as he was about to touch her undergarments, he heard something. Twas almost like...a whisper?   
  
"Did you...?" Before he could finish, a loud piercing sound erupted throughout the cell whilst blue and red light, shaped in the forms of stars and flowers, danced before them. Both sentries closed their eyes and covered their ears, incapacitated by the light and sounds which, unbeknownst to them, only they could see and hear. What the hell was this? Cho felt something brush beside him, followed by a heavy THWACK to the back of his head, knocking him out. The same courtesy was extended to Issho, though it would take two strikes to put him out. Now unconscious on the floor, Arle stood over the two triumphantly, twirling the prison keyring in one hand while a bloody mace occupied the other. Locking the door, she stuck her tongue out at the two before departing. 

"Creeps" 

The hallway before her ended in a sharp left turn. Wanting to avoid any surprises Arle pressed her back against the left wall and crept forward until she reached the corner. She stood there for a brief moment, breathing heavily whilst waves of sweat poured down her face. Her legs noticeably ached and her hands were slightly numb. Red alarms started going off in her head. Bayoen was a spell she personally crafted to be less taxing on use, so why did she feel so drained? Thinking back, she remembered the peculiar words the Templar said and wondered if there was a connection. One of the sentries asked why she wasn’t “finished”, though the meaning of it eluded her. Peering from the corner, rows of torches illuminated the dark, vine-covered path while water dripped to the hard floor. She spotted two rooms, one on the right with its door wide open, and one further down the hall on the left closed. Afterward, the hallway ended in a sharp right turn. It was now evident the Templar did something to her, as her magic reserves seemed sufficiently lacking, and though she now held a weapon, she was not well versed in using it. Still, she had to press onward...   
  
Shifting quietly along the walls, Arle peeked into the opened room and smiled upon its contents. A pantry! She raided it without thought, consuming whatever she could get her hands on, be it apples, celery, rice, or corn. She was so hungry, she even indulged in canned ham, something she never ate raw! With her hunger finally appeased, she felt slightly stronger than before. No more heavy breathing, no more sweat, no more aching or numbing. She was almost back to her old self! A confident smile now etched on her face, Arle clenched a fist and patted herself across the chest. A cheesy gesture for some but a reassuring one for hers. 

I can do this, she thought to herself. 

Closing the pantry door, she then went about investigating the next room and upon opening the door she nearly gagged. By the Ten, did it stink! It was so bad; she was pinching her nose! The path dipped downward and soon enough, Arle found herself standing in an old abandoned waterway! Torches illuminated the cavern bank, while a single wooden raft stood vigil, seemingly roped in place. Approaching the bank, the light from the torches suggested the water was green in color. Curiosity getting the better of her, Arle dipped a finger in and discovered it surprisingly warm! The waterway appeared to stretch some miles as the tunnel curved further outward. A possible exit? She'd take it but not before she got her things back...   
  
Exiting the waterway, she continued down the hallway as quiet as possible. Reaching the end, she peered from the corner and saw a large chamber, occupied by of, all things, Gnolls! Much like Lisians, Gnolls were a beast race from across the southern sea, resembling bipedal dogs. Unlike the hallway, lanterns took up the duty of illumination and the room contained numerous tables and chairs. Boxes were stacked in the far back alongside barrels. The occupants engaged in numerous activities. Arle spotted some playing poker, while others engaged in dice. She spotted a lone Gnoll wiping a counter in the back before another pulled out a stool and asked for (what she assumed) a drink. All in all, a very odd scene but amusing in its own right. Much to her delight, however, was what she spotted in the western corner. Her traveling pack! A pleasant discovery but how was she to recover it? She estimated at least 15 dog-men in there, no way she could take that many on at once!   
  
Perhaps a more...clever approach was needed? 


	3. Chapter 3

_T_ _here are four ways to channel magic..._   
  
_The first is through incantation. You speak the ancient words and allow_ _the spell_ _to take up shop in your body. You're then able to use it as much as you want until you either A.) Recite a different spell or B.) Run out of juice._   
  
_Sure,_ _it_ _look_ _s_ _and sound_ _s_ _cool but they’re incredibly annoying! Incantations aren't short and if you flub just one teeny word, the spell won't work. I hate them! Still, they're considered introductory basics in the magical field. By the time_ _I_ _was_ _seven_ _,_ _I was_ _expected to at least master_ _three_ _..._   
  
_The second is by command. You gather_ _aether_ _from the earth and call out the spell's name. The spell_ _then uses_ _the gathered energy as a conduit to take form. It's the most commonly used_ _way_ _to_ _cast_ _magic_ _. My personal preference too! Easy and no hassle! Still, that doesn't mean there aren’t drawbacks!_ _Aether_ _fueled spells tend to be slightly weaker than other methods, plus they have annoying side effects if you use_ _em_ _too much (_ _burnt fingers_ _, paralysis or gods forbid,_ _self-poison_ _...)._   
  
_The third is through a catalyst. Catalysts are essentially magical conduits and have their own energy source. They come in a variety of forms but the most common are tomes, wands, and staves. All you_ _gotta_ _do is call out the spell and_ _voila!_ _Very convenient but it's not all sun and rainbows. Use them too much and they'll eventually break_ _and_ _need repairs (or in the case of a tome, rewrites). Thankfully they recharge over time so unless you're a reckless idiot, it shouldn't come to that._   
  
_For the record, I have one catalyst. What is it? I'd rather not say..._   
  
_The final method is by_ _seals_ _. Every spell can be channeled naturally with the proper s_ _eal_ _. It doesn't use any kind of energy and is essentially "summoned" from an outside source. The problem? Learning these s_ _eal_ _s take years as you have to study a spell thoroughly to decipher them. Books that chronicle s_ _eals_ _do exist but aren’t available to the public. As it stands, only the upper echelons of militaries have access to them. A shame really..._

  
At one of the far western tables, four gnolls engaged in a game of poker. Seated at the six-o clock position was a black coated gnoll named Ubu, a new recruit to the company. His companions thought him an arrogant sod but damn if he wasn’t funny! Across from him, seated at the twelve-o clock position, was a gold-coated gnoll named Duke. Duke was one of the oldest members of the company and went about his work in stride. He stared at his hand with nary a hint of expression. Next to him, at the three-o clock position, was Oliver, a gnoll bearing a hairy white coat. He did not stand out in particular, save for those blinding bangs of his, confusing many a comrade on how the hell he was able to see. Finally, across from Oliver, seated at the nine-o clock position, was Chips, a gnoll bearing a black and brown coat. Chips was a long-time veteran of the company, having served 20 years within it. If you ever needed someone disemboweled, Chips was the one you were looking for. 

Sitting with one leg over the other, Ubu sported a zesty smirk on his midnight face. His luck had been shit for the past few days but now? Lady Fortune was smiling down on him! All clubs going down King to 9, no way in hell he would lose this. Ubu threw all his chips to the center alongside his gold watch and wedding ring. Sorry honey but I'm going for it, he thought to himself. Chips and Oliver took one look at this and quickly folded. Duke, on the other hand? He was raising the stakes even higher. Tossing all his chips in the center, he shot an unassuming look toward his black-coated opponent. 

"Everything I got, plus then some" Ubu, however, wasn’t convinced.   
"I think yer bluffing old man..."   
"Try me." Ubu simply smiled in response. Duke's poker face was good but Ubu had since discovered a chink. Whenever he was bluffing, his right ear would twitch slightly. No doubt about it, he was full of shit this time. Fully convinced he had this game in the bag, Ubu laid his cards on the table and boasted... 

"Straight Flush, read it and weep old man!" 

Duke then revealed his hand and when Ubu saw it, he nearly pissed himself. 

A Royal Flush 

Oliver was in hysterics while Chips let out a few chuckles. Ubu was many things but a graceful loser he was not. As Duke went about collecting his winnings, Ubu took the time to kick some chairs, slam tables, and swear at the top of his lungs. Oliver couldn’t help but rub it in his nose... 

“Pride cometh before the fall eh?” 

“SHUT UP!” He screamed. The three just sat patiently, riding out their comrade's temper tantrum until he finally sat back down. It was then Duke broke the ice... 

"Where are Issho and Cho?" Duke hadn’t seen the pair for a couple of hours now. They frequented their games quite a bit, as such, he found their absence slightly unusual. 

Chips responded, "Last I heard, they’re clearing out the pantry. Once we’re done here, no use staying.” 

Oliver agreed, “Yeah, the floor is always damp, plus the place stinks to high heaven...” 

After pondering on the matter, Duke looked straight at Ubu and gave the order. 

“Go lend ‘em a hand.” 

“Why me?!” 

“Losers clean house, besides...” Duke flashed the wedding ring he won. “I’ve no need for this. Help them finish up and you can have it back...” Scowling, Ubu stormed from the table and headed for the back, shouting... 

“FINE OLD MAN BUT I’LL HAVE THE LAST LAUGH! JUST WATCH!” 

“I doubt that...” Oliver chuckled. Duke just sighed. It was two in the morning and his eyes were starting to get heavy. That white-haired fellow, the one who hired them, had been gone for around seven hours now. Said he had to get something because he couldn’t “finish the ritual” or something of that accord. Twas none of his business what their employers did but this job was starting to drag on. Hell, they cleared a bunch of highwaymen and slavers out of here a few days back just so he had someplace to keep her under wraps with no hassle. He figured once this whole thing was done, he was gonna demand extra...   
  
As the three prepped themselves for another game, a shrill howl echoed from the back. Sensing one of their own in danger, all the dog-men grabbed their weapons and raced to its source. They found Ubu on the ground next to the pantry, his right leg now twisted. Olivers kneeled to assess the wound and deduced he was mauled with something blunt... 

“WHO THE HELL CARES?!” He snarled. “GET YER HEADS OUTTA YOUR ASSES, THE PRISONER’S ESCAPED!!!” 

True enough, Chips and a few others checked the prison cell and found Issho and Cho inside. There was only one way she could have went and when Duke noticed the door to the waterway hung open slightly, a sort of terrible fire lit up in his eyes. 

“She won’t get far...” He growled softly. 

Duke, Oliver, and Chips rallied their comrades forward and entered the waterway. To their surprise, they found the room pitch black, the only illumination coming from a few lanterns that some of the gnolls brought with them. So, she extinguished the torches? Clever, but it wouldn’t matter. For a Gnoll, sight takes second place to smell and right now, her scent was quite distinct over the fetor water. Lighting up some torches, the group descended into the murk and followed her scent down the winding tunnel. Contrary to what the raft may have suggested, the water only went up to their waists, though it did slow them down slightly. The group made it a good distance before they suddenly heard something from the back... 

Splashing followed by what sounded like someone taking a deep breath... 

Floundering back, the gnolls raised their torches and saw their quarry on the cavern banks, drenched from head to toe. Her arms were raised in the air and as Duke looked down at his submerged legs, the realization finally hit him... 

"...shit..."   
"THUNDER!" 

Ubu sat helpless on the ground, his leg hurting like a bastard. Why Oliver, or for that matter, any of the other assholes didn’t stay behind to lend him a hand, he had no clue. Clinging to the wall for support, he was able to force himself up with one leg but upon seeing the prisoner emerge from the waterway passage, he slipped right back down. 

“How did you!?” He asked in disbelief. Arle, now drenched and smelling like rat manure, kneeled to him and answered... 

“I held my breath.” 

She followed through with a whack across his head. Ubu was now out like a light. Dropping the mace to the ground, Arle let out a relieved sigh. With the last one out of commission, she proceeded to the central area to reclaim her belongings, though, by the time she got there, the effects were already kicking in. Her vision now blurred, she stumbled across the room, using the tables and chairs for support all whilst she shivered. She had to muster everything she had left in her to pull off that stunt and while it was successful, there was no telling how long they’d be out for. Seating herself next to her traveling pack, she found to her relief, everything had been left untouched. Even her dagger was accounted for! Pleased, she pulled out a towel along with that green potion she purchased. She quickly chugged it down and once it was all gone, she was shocked. 

It didn't taste bad. 

Quite the opposite! A rare thing indeed, did the storeowner brew this himself? Feeling her strength slowly return, she went about drying herself and in no short time, she was back to her old self! Alas, the smell from the water still lingered. Once she was out of here, her first priority would be a bath... 

After fastening the dagger to her back, she took the time to examine her surroundings as well as to measure her current options. The central area held three doors, one of which was locked. She tried all the keys on the keyring but to no avail. No doubt this was her exit. Still, nothing was stopping her from using the old waterway, but after drudging through that muck once, the prospect of doing it again was much less appealing. Besides she had no idea if it even led anywhere and even if it did, those gnolls would come around eventually. She considered freezing the water but that would be too taxing, plus the water was rather warm, so the effect wouldn’t last long. It appeared she would have to go about this the hard way, though a part of her did not mind. She was, after all, an adventurer! Per the words of one of her seniors...   
  
"Leave no stone unturned! You ever find yourself in caves, dungeons, or ruins, you go through them like a fine-toothed comb! Even the most seemingly worthless looking bauble can fetch a decent price! Loot everything you so much as see!" 

Arle went back to the pantry hallway and promptly locked both the waterway and hallway doors, setting her mind at ease. She then explored, investigating every crevice, tunnel, and room she came across, all bearing the same rocky and vine-covered features she had seen when she woke up. The complex was much larger than initially thought and when she entered the living quarters, the reason became apparent. She uncovered a series of documents, detailing various slave transactions. Apparently, the place served as a sort of reverse “underground railroad” at some point, though whatever fate fell upon its former occupants eluded her (she hoped it wasn’t a pleasant one). 

Further in, she came across a few stray Lynxes but despite her reduced magic, they ultimately proved no threat (a small fireball to stun ‘em followed by a kick to the head). She was reminded of the stories associated with Lynxes. Supposedly, they emerge when corpses start to rot and promptly eat them, bone and all. Well, at least, that’s what her friend Lala claimed. The thought brought a smile to Arle. Lala always had a knack for the most morbid stories. How was she doing, she wondered? 

Eventually, she found what she sought, laying on a nightstand next to a bed. Putting the key in her pocket, she rushed back to the central chamber and was all but prepared to make her escape until her eyes fell upon the other door. Curiosity getting the better of her, she opened it and discovered to her great delight, a chamber of treasure chests! She went about looting everything, taking in as much money, jewels, and niceties that she could carry. 

With all paths explored, the final door awaited her. Unsheathing her dagger, she unlocked the door and slowly opened it. Much to her relief, the pathway was barren! Unlike the previous ones, this tunnel was fairly wide, held up by rows of wooden beams and instead of torches, a series of lanterns hung from the center beams. The light they emanated was small and dim and as a result, portions of the tunnel were masked in darkness. There was no mistaking it, however. At the far end of the tunnel, she can see faint light shining on the walls. Sprinting as quick as she can, she made it about halfway down the tunnel before a voice whispered from the darkness... 

"So, you managed to escape? You continue to impress, fair lady..." 

Emerging from the shadows was her captor, the silver-haired Templar from before. He approached her slowly, slipping in and out of the dim lantern lights like a phantom. His icy eyes were on her full force as well as that imperious smirk. Arle, however, noticed something different this time around. Up to his elbow, his right arm was now wreathed in bandages. Did her captor suffer some sort of injury? 

Regardless, whatever menace she initially felt from him was now gone. She snapped... 

"Out of my way, you sick creep!" 

Suddenly, the man paused and Arle noticed a slight change in him. That threatening gaze of his was replaced with irritation and that repulsive smirk now gave way to a frown. The switch was so jarring that it felt as if someone just blew out a candle. Did he...take offense to her words? Glaring at her, he asked while stroking his hair... 

"Fair though you may be, your manners need work. Did not your elders teach you tis rude to address your betters with such uncouth words?" 

Huh? 

"Just what world do you live on!? Why you're the very definition of a creep! You knocked me out, kidnapped me, and locked me in a cell! For all I know, you could have fondled or touched my...!" 

"I DID NO SUCH THING!!" He screamed; his face now beet red. Arle wasn’t convinced. 

"LIKE I’D BELIEVE THAT! Earlier you called me beautiful and said you wanted me!!! If that's not implying something I don't kno-" 

"FAIR LADY, YOU BESMIRCH MY HONOR WITH SUCH ACCUSATIONS!! NOT ONLY DID YOU MISUNDERSTAND MY WORDS BUT YOU ACCUSE ME OF SUCH FOUL BEHAVIOR?!" 

Arle was stunned silent. Her captor, now red as a tomato and breathing heavily, took a brief moment to compose himself before calmly explaining... 

“I am a hunter of magi, or more accurately, magic. Tis, not your body I desire, but the ancient heritage that courses through it. When I ferried you here, my only objective was to drain you of your magic, nothing else. That is the truth...” 

Arle's head tilted to the side, confused over his...how can she say it...strange defense? His odd manner of speaking notwithstanding, she had no reason to believe him but something in her felt that he was telling the truth. Well, at least concerning whether he was a creep. Still, one moment he comes upon her like a predator, the next he's red in the face and denying implications he did something inappropriate. A depraved sexual deviant or the world's most threatening prude? She found it slightly comical. After a brief moment of silence, her captor asked... 

“How exactly did you escape anyway?” Arle explained and after finishing, the templar started stroking his chin and chuckling. 

“Very clever! If I may ask, what is your name?” 

“Nadja. Arle Nadja” she answered. With a courteous bow, he introduced himself... 

“Sir Schezo Wegey. Dark Wizard and fourth wielder of the Dark Sword. Truly an honor to make your acquaintance, Lady Nadja.” Raising his head, he then matched eyes with her before finishing, “Tis a beautiful name...” 

What the heck!? Didn’t he just kidnap her!? Arle was becoming increasingly frustrated over the man’s bizarre behavior. She couldn’t tell if he was just being polite or subtly hitting on her. Not that it mattered anyway. Raising his left arm upward, Schezo summoned a sword to his hand. The blade was long and sharp with nary a hint of use. Most strange of all is that it seemed to be forged out of either diamond or crystal. A conjured weapon was it? Arle had seen many before but this one seemed...different somehow. Conjured weapons usually appeared bland and transparent but this one looked quite solid. Slashing the air in front of him, Schezo declared... 

"With the pleasantries out of the way, we can proceed to the main event. Are you prepared to submit to me, Lady Nadja?" 

Arle was now even more confused. 

“Um...what?” 

“To finish the ritual! Whilst you were unconscious, I siphoned your magic and made it mine! Alas, I was unable to claim it all. As such, I had to acquire some outside assistance...” 

“Why in blue blazes would I ever agreed to that?!” She snapped backed. “You’re nothing but a thief! Pure and simple! You even admitted so when we first met!” Schezo merely nodded. 

“True, but a thief with vision my lady! Submit to me and we will become one. Our combined magics embracing as one across the aether rivers! What I offer you is not destruction but salvation! Become one with me and I shall show you wonders that exceed this mortal coil!” 

Arle just stared at him blankly, completely at a loss of words. By the Ten, he really is a pervert! Just what the hell is he talking about?! Slashing the air one more time he finished with... 

"Let it be known, in days of yore, I was known as the handsome man that defied the gods! So I ask you, Arle Nadja? Will you submit!?" 

Arle was rendered speechless...   
The handsome man that defied the gods...   
Did she hear that right?   
THE HANDSOME MAN THAT DEFIED THE GODS!? 

It was too much! Arle suddenly burst into hysterics, laughing uncontrollably. Schezo looked at her incredulously, his face now flushed in red. Why was she laughing? She's not supposed to laugh! He is the dark wizard! He was a figure of fear not a figure of mockery! 

“What is this?! Cease this ridiculous mirth at once! I COMMAND YOU!!!" 

Arle complied and settled herself down. Wiping her eyes, she looked at the man and smiled. Twas strange, she originally wanted to beat him stupid but now? A part of her was actually starting to like him or at the very least, pity him. Seriously all that fluff he blurted out? You can't make that stuff up! A comedic goldmine if there ever was one! Perhaps it was possible to talk him down? 

"Sorry... It's just..." 

Suddenly, without warning, the Dark Wizard lunged straight at her. Arle was able to avoid the attack with a quick side jump but Schezo followed through with a vicious swing. She ducked and as the blade flew over her head, she went into a quick roll to make some distance between her and her captor. The blade left a shadowy after trail in its path and sliced through the hard wall with ease. Surely something to avoid. Jumping up, she shouted... 

"ARE YOU CRAZY?! AND HERE I WAS JUST STARTING TO LIKE YOU!! THAT COULD’VE KILL-" Schezo matched eyes with her, his face now swelling in rage and screamed... 

"YOU DARE MOCK ME?! AN INHERITOR OF THE DARK SWORD?! SUCH INSOLENCE MERITS PUNISHMENT!! I'LL HACK YOU FROM CROTCH TO THROAT AND FEED YOUR ENTRAILS TO THE CROWS!!" 

"Have it your way then!" 

Tossing her traveling pack aside, Arle readied herself for battle. 


	4. Chapter 4

_Magic is a strange thing._   
_For starters, not just anyone can become a mage! No, its_ _gotta_ _run in the blood and even then, there's no guarantee you'll inherit it! That is unless_ _you take a page from my family_ _! Yessir, my mom and dad were both mages and long before them my grandma was one tool! Not only that but both my siblings are also mages!_ _Whatcha_ _think of that?_

_Hmm? Yes, I have siblings. An older sister and an older brother. And no, I don't want to talk about them..._

_Assuming you aren't a screw-up, basic magic school takes about ten years to pass on average. Once you graduate and get your papers,_ _ya_ _take_ _em_ _to the local registration office, have them stamped and poof! You're officially a certified mage! A graduation party usually follows afterward wherein you make perhaps the biggest decision of your life._

_Stay freelance or join the military_

_W_ _hile it's not mandatory, newly graduated magi are heavily encouraged to enlist in the military._ _Ya_ _see military_ _enlisted_ _mag_ _i get promoted_ _faster,_ _are_ _better_ _compensated_ _, gain_ _opportunities to mingle with the nobility and most importantly, perfect their craft to new heights!_ _Make no mistake, many_ _of the greatest spells in history are learned_ _exclusively_ _through military academies._ _A_ _mage that comes from a poor household is essentially a glorified meal ticket once they enlist._

_So why didn't I go for it?_

_It's...complicated._ _Ya_ _see, both my mom and grandma served in the Augustus Legion. My dad though? He never_ _bothered with certification (which is illegal, mind you) nor did he serve in any army._ _He_ _was known as an "_ _elymas_ _", a colorful term for "Rogue Sorcerer"_ _, not that it ever bothered him._ _He frequently said, “...this power is for the benefit of others, not for those above me.”_ _Yep, he_ _improved upon his magic_ _the_ _good old-fashioned_ _way! H_ _ard work and dedication! And judging from the stories mom and grandma tell me, he succeeded in every way. Dad did so much for Mattina...with feats ranging from vanquishing an army of goblins to diverting a flood. Even now, my hometown holds him in high esteem_ _..._

_I guess_ _a part of me_ _just took to that. My daddy was my hero when I was little and while he wasn’t around for long, I cherish the few memories I have of him..._

_Still, I remember at my graduation party, the look on my siblings' faces when I announced that I wasn't joining the Legion. The disappointment and disgust were apparent though mom and grandma were all smiles..._

"Oh? Are you going to fight me?” Schezo asked 

The rage that existed but a moment ago now gave way to amusement. Once again, he gazed at her with those frozen eyes, signaling the return of that odious smirk to his mouth. Releasing his left hand from the blade, he casually tossed it into the air with his right where it spun a few before landing gracefully back into his left. Twirling the blade in his left, he placed his bandaged right hand to his back and raised his sword, now firmly gripped, toward her. 

“Come then, witness firsthand the gap that exists between us....” 

Arle stood her ground, determined and full of resolve. Unbeknownst to him, she managed to sneak two herbs into her skirt pocket before tossing her traveling pack, some insurance if things got dicey. Still, she’d be lying if she claimed she wasn’t nervous. Even she knew a sword is handled best with both hands, yet her captor was challenging her with just one. A bluff was it? Or was he truly that confident? Aside from that, her current options were quite limited. He had sucked a good portion of her power so spells that require a hefty output were out of the question. State affecting magic was possible but she had doubts about its effectiveness, especially with that strange weapon of his. It wasn’t all hopeless for she still had “that” in case her magic reserves started to run out. Sensing he was about to make the first move, Arle took action... 

“ICE STORM!” 

Two waves of ice, snow and freezing air roared down the tunnel, leaving trails of frozen rock in their wake. Schezo, however, stood his ground. and as the first wave of ice was just about to reach him, his weapon erupted in bright orange light. Swinging the blade with utmost grace, Arle watched in disbelief as the weapon completely vanquished her attack. And as the second wave approached, he swung again, attaining the same result. It didn’t even touch him. Smiling, he once again raised his blade toward her. 

“Now then my lady...let me show you how it is done...” 

Pulling the blade back, Schezo bathed the blade in a faint blue light before lunging it forward with great force. He gave the command... 

“ICE STORM!” 

The tables were now turned! His variant was greater not only in power but also in size and speed. There was no dodging this! Crossing her arms and turning her head away, she summoned as much heat into her body as she possibly could. Soon enough, she felt the below zero air smashing into her at full force, the snow pellets smacking into her clothes and the sting of the icicles as they pierced her flesh. The force was so great that it sent her flying a good distance backward. The pain was strong and sharp but Arle remained vigilant. Forcing herself up, she discovered she’d been thrown a good distance down the tunnel. A few feet from her was the door to the central room. Looking forward, she could see the Templar approaching her in seemingly no hurry. Using as little power she could, Arle warmed her body up before ingesting an herb and going for the door. It was clear her captor was stronger than her in every sense of the word but she wasn’t giving up! Looking back, she recalled he didn’t take her spell head-on. No, instead he dispatched of it before reaching him. Even the most accomplished mage won’t take a spell head-on if they can avoid it. It wasn’t much to go on but it gave her an idea. Raising her hands in the air, she whispered the spell name as quietly as she could. 

“Diacute” 

Diacute is a spell that doubles the power of offensive magic. This wasn’t enough though, she had to get off three more and there’s a 30-second window before it can be used again. Her endgame was to unleash a 4x Fireblast at the man. No matter how strong he was, it should at the very least, immobilize him for a couple of minutes. Furthermore, she needed to get close or else he might dodge or counter it. Her stamina had not quite given out yet but she knew that three more Diacutes would probably be her limit. There was no question now, she would have to rely on “that” to perform the spell. It was something she preferred to avoid but there were no alternatives. Now she would have to play for time... 

Schezo strolled through the tunnel at a leisurely pace, only picking the slack when he saw his target flee to the central room. So, this was her game then? Schezo’s lips curled as a few short chuckles left his mouth. Most of his victims just accepted their fate and once he was finished, they’d be let go. Still, now and then he’d come across a stubborn one. Honestly, he enjoyed these more as it made the game more exciting, plus he found this one of particular interest. T’was strange, no matter how much he tried, the ritual simply wouldn’t drain her fully. That had never happened before! T’would seems his hand was forced and he needed to procure something with a little more punch. Bringing forth his right hand, the answer was before him. He gazed down at the bandaged appendage and grinned. He needed a few hours to make the switch but it was worth it. Intriguing though she may be, she was still a mage with only a quarter of magic left. And despite his earlier words, he truly had no intention of hurting her. No, something so lovely must be given the chance to properly blossom. Smacking his lips and returning his right hand to his back, the dark wizard entered the central room and found it empty. Hide and seek then? How fun... 

Arle lay crouched behind the bar counter, mentally counting down the seconds needed for the next spell. She had managed a second Diacute just before Schezo entered the room and was now awaiting her third. Still, she greatly underestimated the strain the spell put on her, as such, she would need to use “that” to not only perform the next one but also to unleash the fire spell... 

12...13...14...15... 

Lowering her breath, she listened attentively at her captors' footsteps. He was a good distance away from the counter but it was a given he would eventually search here. It was indeed a terrible spot but if she hid in one of the rooms, she’d be easily cornered. The waterway wasn’t an option either as the dog-men might be waking up and she couldn’t contend with all them. She had to be careful and everything hinged on the plan. Thankfully, her captor was in no hurry and continued his leisurely search. Such arrogance... 

26...27...28...29... 

Now! Raising her hand as low as she can and whispering, she uttered the spell... 

“Diacute...” 

Just then, she heard her captor’s footsteps rustle in excitement and without warning, she saw her captors' blade slice through the wooden counter, missing her by only a few inches. 

“Found you!” 

Without so much as a thought, Arle got to her knees, flipped over the ruined counter and quickly dashed across the room. As she jumped over the countless tables and chairs, she continued counting down in her head... 

5...6...7...8... 

“FIRE” 

Dammit! With sweat beading down her face, she looked back to discover a massive fireball heading for her. There was no question about it, if she got hit by that, she was done for! Picking up her speed she dived to her right and ducked as low as she could. Missing her by just a few feet, the inferno struck the treasure room, blasting it into oblivion. The sound of the explosion rattled her head and for a moment, Arle couldn’t make what was what save a constant ringing in her head. Her vision was blurred and the back sides of her legs were now burned. Forcing herself up, Arle struggled to maintain balance while that wretched ringing echoed throughout her head. Knowing Schezo was approaching, she stumbled across the room with nary a clue on where she going before resting her back toward the rocky wall. Breathing heavily, she felt the dampness of it seep through her clothes, stinging her like a bee. By then, the ringing had ceased and her vision started to clear. She pulled out her second herb and forced it down. Schezo stood but a table away, looking at her with what almost looked like concern... 

“I say that is enough. Surrender now and I will tend to your wounds after I've finished...” 

Reaching for her back, she released the gilded dagger and brandished it toward Schezo defiantly. She was not giving up! Her life had only just begun and there was still much to accomplish! She had two great goals in life and she wasn’t going to throw them away on the whims of a sick creep! This display however only elicited a scoff from the Dark Wizard... 

“Surely you jest...” 

The blade was quite thick, so much so that one might mistake it for a short sword if they didn’t know better. The hilt also was unlike anything he’d ever seen, with wild circles of gold at the guard. Truly an exotic piece. Even Schezo couldn’t help but admire its craftsmanship. He surmised it must be a family heirloom. After all, one does not obtain such a relic through mundane means. The girl was now floundering off the wall, trying to reach the door using the chairs and tables as balance, all while that dagger was directed at him. He sighed... 

T’was time to end this. 

Still, he had to give her credit. No one had ever struggled this much! The woman had earned his respect, no questions asked. As Schezo readied himself for the feast he saw the girl raise her hands and though it was but a whisper, he could make out the word... 

Diacute 

So that was her plan? 

Schezo smiled and positioned his blade before him. Calling forth the sacred darkness, the blade hummed with anticipation and as he readied her for the swing, he could feel the power of his predecessors coursing within. 

“AREIADO!” 

Slashing the air before him, two great crescent beams of hollowing darkness were unleashed from the sword. There was no time to react. The first beam struck Arle across the chest, slashing through her and lifting her into the air. As she fell to the ground, the second beam followed, going through her like a sawblade and only missing her head by a tiny margin. Landing on her back, she felt herself dead from the intense pain. What had just happened? For a brief moment, she thought herself cut to pieces! It burned from every inch and as she coughed, she sighted some red erupting from her mouth. 

This was bad... 

She felt her right hand and discovered the dagger was no longer there! Moving her head, she discovered it had been knocked a few feet away. Using whatever strength that remained, she dragged herself toward the dagger, stretching her right hand out as far as possible before a familiar blade interrupted its path. The dark sword once again missed her by an inch, though she had suspected it was deliberate... 

“It seems the game has come to an end...” He glanced at the dagger and shook his head. 

“It would have made no difference.” 

Schezo snapped his fingers, dismissing his loyal companion. The sword vanished into a dark mist, leaving no trace of its existence save for the hole it left in the ground. Looking at her, a tinge of sadness swelled within him though why this was, he had no idea. She lay on her back, still glaring at him with that ever-determined look as sweat trickled down her face. The first beam struck her horizontally, leaving a very defined cross across her chest and stomach. These segments of her clothing were sheared clean, revealing the wounded imprint on her flesh for all to see. Fortunately for her, her breastplate negated some of the damage to her upper body, though the indent in both it and her shoulder guard was apparent. The second beam did not do as well. This one was a vertical strike, going from her waist to her neck. Unlike the first one, the affected clothing was worn but not cut clean. Dropping to his knees, Schezo placed his left hand on her right shoulder and pushed down as he positioned himself over her head. He then told her in the softest way possible... 

“Do not be afraid...” 

Bringing forth his right hand, he bit down on one of the loose dressings and slowly unbandaged it and as the wrappings slowly unraveled, Arle’s fear only intensified. T'was no hand of human origin! Its features were outright demonic, with red skin, ridged knuckles and claws. Positioned at the center of the palm, however, was a most terrifying sight! A mouth, complete with lips, teeth, and tongue. Arle was immediately repulsed and upon “seeing” her, it seemed to get excited.

“W-What is that?!” She stammered out. Schezo just smiled and looked upon it with admiration. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He then elaborated. “Years ago, there was a boy that attended a magic school in Valheim. He was born with this deformity, a demonic hand of unknown origins. Those he touched would be drained of either life-force or magic. From personal observation though it seems to prefer magic over the other...” Arle noticed the mouth snapping at Schezo, almost as if it were...angry? “One day I came across the boy in the woods playing with bugs of all things! His magic was impressive but, in the end, he proved no match. To the victor goes the spoils...” Arle was shocked. 

“You...cut his hand off?!” Schezo nodded. 

“Indeed. Sadly, it doesn’t appear to like me much. I have to take some precautions when using it...” Looking back at her, he finished. “Now that you know, hold still. Otherwise, things might get...messy.” 

Arle recoiled as the hand drew closer and closer. She can see the drool oozing out as it smacked its lips. She struggled to break free but it proved fruitless. Turning her head away, she caught a whiff of the thing’s disgusting breath before it rested on her head. She felt the tongue lick her cheek before latching its lips onto her. At first, it felt like a kiss but then it quickly devolved into a sort of suck, similar to a leech. As she lay there helpless; she began to feel it, the last remnants of her magic being taken away. She, however, refused to yield. There had to be something, anything, she could do to save herself! It was then she noticed, the position her captor was in. His waist was just a few feet above her knees and if there was one thing every girl in school knew, all boys have that one weakness... 

Grabbing her captors' arms, Arle held tight and with every bit of strength she had, sent her right leg soaring. At first, she feared she missed but the second she felt his hands release her, she knew she hit the mark. He squealed while hot tears poured down his face, quickly grabbing his fractured manhood in a vain attempt to curb the pain. His new appendage, however, did not appreciate its meal being interrupted and made its feelings known. The Templar screamed; this was her chance! Flipping herself over, Arle crawled with all her might toward the dagger. Her exposed flesh scraping against the hard rock floor causing no amount of discomfort but she persisted. Noticing her escape, Schezo took action but as he rushed recklessly with one hand still on his nethers, his feet got tangled and he fell to the ground. Dragging himself forward, he grabbed her by the shoulder and screamed in fury... 

“YOU DIRTY BI-” 

Without looking, Arle swung the dagger with full force, puncturing his left cheek. Dabs of red began to trickle down onto her clothes as Schezo screamed from the sudden pain. 

Without missing a beat, Arle glared at him and said only one word... 

“FIRE!” 


	5. Chapter 5

_During my fifth year of school, we were all assigned to serve at a temple of our choosing. It lasted for about a month and we were instructed to keep a journal to chronicle our experiences so that we can share them when we returned. While the instructors didn’t say it, it was all just a subtle way to see if_ _any of us_ _were interested in committing to a temple_ _in the future_ _. It didn’t work for me. Most of my time was spent sweeping floors, refilling basins and reciting passages from scripture. In other words, total boredom! I did, however, enjoy the high priestess’s sermons! She was pretty nice and always gave us chocolate when we did a good job..._

_What?_ _Not familiar with_ _temple_ _s_ _?_

_Well, you know how churches are devoted to all of the Ten? Temples operate in the same manner, except their bigger, prettier and are devoted to only one deity. Some people are just more thankful to one god than the others and seek out their blessings more often. After all, if you spend most of your time fighting, nobody’s better at watching your back than the God of War!_

_Wait? You don’t know who the Ten are?_

_Might as well go down the list._

_YHVH the_ _Almother_ _, Goddess of_ _Creation_ _._ _I s_ _erved at her_ _temple!_

_Ymir the_ _Alfather_ _, God of Death. Don’t let that scare_ _ya_ _, he’s really a nice guy!_

_Tyr the_ _Knight_ _,_ _God of_ _War. If you love combat, he’s your man!_

_The Dragonf_ _ather_ _Bahamut, God_ _of_ _Time. How_ _can we move forward without time?!_

_Quetzalcoatl the Judge,_ _God of_ _Law. Can’t go wrong with him! The world needs_ _rules and_ _order!_

_Minerva the Wise, Goddess of Wisdom. Magi love her, after all, magic requires precise thought!_

_Aurea the Tormented, Goddess of Love. She suffers for us all!_ _Lend her a prayer_ _!_

_The Great Whale Cetus, God of Justice. What else can I say? Bad people need to be punished!_

_Gael the Clever, God of Commerce. If you have a trade, you’ll want his support!_

_Baphomet the Spurned, God of Balance. Not a very popular figure mind you, though demi-humans seem to like him..._

_It’s important to keep in mind that elves don’t worship the Ten. It’s actually considered a great insult to invoke them in their presence. Hasn’t stopped a few smartasses from doing so though..._

Arle stumbled down the dimly lit tunnel, her left arm grasping the rocky walls for support while the bloodied dagger rested in her right, swinging aimlessly. She held it, that was clear as day but she felt nothing there. Her entire right arm had been rendered numb. Was it her injuries, the dark wizard’s magic or something else? She hardly cared at this point, right now all she sought was the comfort of her traveling pack, to ingest that red elixir she had purchased. Exhaustion and fatigue were beckoning her to submit but Arle refused. Scrapes and bruises adorned her skin whilst her clothes were torn, matted in blood and dirt. If someone came walking toward her they might mistake her for a zombie she mused. The idea elicited a giggle from her which quickly switched to pain laced coughs. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she saw it. 

Her traveling pack! 

Rushing as quick as she could, Arle dropped to her knees and started searching. Her vision blurred, she relied on her hands and sought that familiar glassy touch. Soon enough, her fingers felt it and she raised the bottle... 

It was the blue one... 

But she didn’t care. 

Uncorking the potion, she chugged it down and rested herself against the tunnel walls. Almost instantly, she felt her strength slowly returning. The numbness in her arm vanished and her vision started to clear. Now relieved, she let out a loud comforting sigh, sheathed the dagger and closed her eyes. 

She had won. 

It had all happened so fast! The flame that dagger unleashed was 10 times the size of a normal x4 enhanced fire spell! That, however, was paltry compared to what came after! As the spell conjured within his mouth, she saw his skin begin to boil as streams of fire erupted from his eyes. Worst of all, whilst all this happened, he let out the most bloodcurdling scream she ever heard! When the spell’s momentum began to kick in, the skin on his face quickly started to blacken and melt. Less than a second after, Arle saw his head completely detach from his body and sail with the flames to the other side of the room. The resulting explosion shook the entire area, so much so, she feared the ceiling would collapse. Raising herself from the floor, she noticed a bloody chunk of something on her skirt, which she promptly brushed off. It was just now, with her mind finally at ease did she realize... 

That was the tip of his tongue... 

Her eyes, now opened, widened at the thought. 

When she stabbed him through the cheek, she cleaved off the tip of his tongue! 

It was then it finally hit her... 

She had killed someone. 

She had honest to gods, killed someone! 

The revelation left Arle stunned. She continued to sit there; her eyes fixated on the lantern above her as she lost herself in thought... 

This was nothing new she reasoned. After all, she had slain countless beasts before and never batted an eye. There’s no need for her to start questioning herself! After all, she never intended to kill him...just incapacitate him. She had gone about it in the same mindset when she dealt with the bandits in a previous contract. Subdue them, don’t kill them. She had no idea the dagger would react that way! If anything, it was an accident! 

Arle’s eyes remained on the lantern, her mind oblivious to their machinations as she debated herself over her actions. 

Furthermore, that man was a threat, a thief that sought to drain her of her magic! Not only that but per his own words, he’d been doing it for years! Countless magi fell victim to this man, their livelihoods whisked away because of his selfish greed. Hell, he admitted to cutting off a little boy’s hand! In a sense, her actions were completely justified! Karma had finally caught up to him and it was his very hubris that did him in! That was it! He attacked her and she defended herself! There was nothing wrong with that! 

She did nothing wrong! 

So why was she crying? 

Tears streamed down Arle’s face, her eyes still on the lantern. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she curled up and buried her face into her knees. No matter how much she tried to justify it, the fact remained, for the first time, she had taken a human life. Her first “true kill” as they call it. 

Would she have felt the same way if it was a demi-human? 

Or an elf? 

She did not know. As she continued mulling over this a familiar voice emerged from the depths of her conscious. Advice given to her years prior... 

“Eventually a situation comes that will require you to bloody your hands. Such is the world we live in. When this happens, do not succumb to your doubts! Your opponent certainly won’t! If you can’t harden yourself to accept this then someday, it might be you on the sharp end of a sword...” 

Her sister... 

The sorrow that once held sway over her now gave way to a profound sense of self-loathing. Raising her head from her legs, Arle rested her chin on her knees and looked forward, her brows now knitted. She emerged victorious from her endeavor, there was no denying that. But at the same time... 

She should have never been in said situation in the first place. 

Her siblings would have never fallen for such a trick. They would have struck him down at the first opportunity! Why hadn’t she done that? Was it because of his compliments? Did being called pretty catch her off guard? She couldn’t say but still, the disgust in herself only continued to intensify. She had defeated him by just the skin of her teeth, one might even say by a stroke of luck. That man was stronger than her, no doubt about it but her elder siblings? 

They would have easily mopped the floor with him. 

Enough of this! Examining herself, she discovered all her injuries had fully healed, with only her torn and dirty clothes bearing memories of the battle before. Rising from the floor, she dusted herself off, grabbed her traveling pack and made her way down the tunnel, A sullen expression was now etched on her face. By this time the revelation of her “first kill” played second fiddle to own disappointment in herself. What's done is done, her priority now was to get to Corwin, find lodging, take a bath and find a new set of garments. A very faint light was visible at the end of the tunnel so she was now one step closer to that goal. Picking up the pace, Arle sprinted forward, wanting to put this nightmare behind her. Suddenly, without warning, all the lanterns in the tunnel instantly went out. She was now traversing through total darkness. 

“What?” she asked herself. 

As if in reply, a vicious shriek echoed from behind her and as she turned back to look, she felt something connect with her face. Almost as if someone punched her. Caught off guard, Arle fell to the ground, bewildered at the new turn of events. What the hell was going on? Another shriek echoed throughout the darkness, though this time, it was much closer. A great force struck the back of the neck, sending her forward. Her initial confusion now gave way to irritation. Quickly rising to her feet, Arle clasped her hands together and swung them upward. 

“LIGHT!” 

A great ball of light formed above her, illuminating the pitch darkness. With visibility returned to her, Arle quickly surveyed the area for her mysterious attacker. She would quickly find him, and what she saw defied logic. 

“You gotta be kidding me...” She said in disbelief 

She was staring at a disembodied head, seamlessly floating in the air. If the burnt skin and strands of hair were any indication, there was no doubting its identity. Regions of burnt ivory were now exposed and what little flesh remained was charred completely black. His entire left eye was now just a gaping black hole, while his right drooped outward like a snot, struggling to remain in place. His lips and nose were completely seared, exposing the gums and bone beneath. The headband he wore was now gone as was near all his frontal hair. For Arle however, the most terrifying thing of all was his...how could she say it? 

Expression? 

That face glared at her with not just rage, but seething hatred. The gritting of his teeth, those hollowed screeches, the ferocity of his strikes. It was a far cry from the man she encountered before. It shrieked again and rushed toward her. With her vision restored, Arle easily evaded the attack and kept her eyes on it. This time it backed up further, as far away from the light as it could before trying again. There was no scream, it lunged forward at full force but to no avail, Arle dodged it yet again. By this point, Arle had reached her limit. She shouted... 

“I’m through playing games Schezo! It’s time to end this!” 

The head paid no attention and once again lunged at her, which she easily dodged and as she did so, something caught her eye. To her right was a decently sized rock, akin in width to a ball. Tucking it under her left arm, the head once again came after her but this time she rolled out of its path. Tis funny, It reminded her of dodgeball at school. Taking into account Its one-dimensional method of offense, there’s little doubt that the Templar was now in a far more weakened state than before. She did not want to risk it then but now? Arle was willing to take a gamble. She waited for the head to reappear and once it emerged from the darkness, she swung her free hand forward and yelled out... 

“STOP!” 

And just like that, the head was frozen still in the air, immobilized and helpless. Gripping the rock with both hands, Arle struck its left temple and sent it flying into the western wall where It promptly fell the ground. Arle approached it, panting and sweating as she raised the rock above her head. The head, now bleeding profusely, glared at her defiantly with its drooping eye. As the rock came down, it blurted out something but whatever it was, Arle did not hear it. 

Her own screams had completely drowned it out. 

As the rock connected, a loud crunching sound echoed throughout the tunnels. The rock, now bloodied was again raised over her head. 

And like before, it came down... 

Again... 

And again... 

And again... 

Finally, after she finished her fifth swing, clarity returned to Arle. Tossing the rock aside, she looked upon what she had wrought. Blood, brain tissue and the shattered fragments of a skull were strewn before her. Initially, she was confused, then terrified, at what she had done. Just what prompted her to do this? Fear? Rage? Despair? These questions raced through her mind until something familiar was restored to her. 

Her magic. 

She felt as it returned to her, her stolen magic. 

Letting out a deep breath, Arle rejoiced at the return of her powers. T'was strange, tears streamed down her face a moment ago but now? 

She was laughing slightly. 

What was the meaning behind it? She had no idea. He was dead now and she did the deed, but her stolen magic was restored. She hoped his other victims would experience the same thing. Rising from the ground, she grabbed her traveling pack and continued onward. Soon enough she was greeted by the sight of the rising sun. She smiled as she took in the fresh air. 

At long last, it was over. 


	6. Chapter 6

_Searching through the grass, she gathered as many twigs as she could. The child had a happy look on her face as she went about her task. Night had fallen and she was out in the woods. As instructed, she didn’t stray far from the campsite, though, at such a young age, it was easy to lose one’s bearings. By then she had more than enough, but she just kept going for more. Only when she heard that_ _familiar_ _voice did she realize she was done._

_“_ _Arle_ _! Honey! Remember not to stray too far!”_

_Rushing back to the campsite, she dropped the twigs at his feet as he went about carving out something with his dagger. Arle always thought it very pretty but was forbidden to touch it. She smiled and asked..._

_“Is this enough, Papa?”_

_Putting his dagger and work aside, the man matched his eyes with hers and smiled._

_“More than enough, good job honey!”_

_Arle_ _felt so proud! She watched as her father went about starting a fire, showing and explaining every step necessary. She listened attentively and once it started to take hold, she found herself entranced by it. People say_ _fire_ _is red but_ _Arle_ _didn’t think so. It looked more orange to her. Glancing towards her father, she asked..._

_“Papa, why go through all the trouble making this when you can just use magic?”_

_Her father merely chuckled his gold eyes and reddish-brown hair now highlighted by the light._

_“When it comes to tasks such as this, it’s better to go about it naturally. One should always be prepared. A mage that relies too much on his talents is oftentimes more vulnerable”_

_Arle_ _didn’t understand it but nodded regardless. Her father then proceeded to make soup, which_ _Arle_ _happily assisted with. After dinner was done,_ _Arle_ _returned to the fire, once again entranced by its displays._

_“Here Honey.”_

_T’was the wooden sculpture her father had been working on!_

_“A gift. Take care of it now!”_

_Arle_ _was unfamiliar with the animal. It had four legs, a tiny tail, and a small head. It was standing on its two back legs while its front legs were raised under its head. It had these big things coming out from its head, that almost looked like branches. Looking up at her father she asked..._

_“What is it?”_

_“It’s a stag dear! With their great antlers and strong bodies, they’re said to be the kings of forests!”_

_“Ant--_ _lers_ _?”_ _Arle_ _was a little lost. Her father pointed at them and she quickly picked up on it._

_“Ah! The tree branches!”_

_“Yes dear, the tree_ _branches_ _.” He smiled at her._

_Arle_ _quickly took a liking to her new gift. Scooting closer to her father she asked if he could tell her more about stags. He then began telling her an old story..._

Arle opened her eyes which gazed upward at the woodwork ceiling. She was still soaking in the tub as before. She was not one to normally doze off like that but considering her ordeal, perhaps it was needed? Turned out the cave she was taken to was not that far from where she met Schezo. Nestled in the woods and masked by shrubbery, it was the perfect hideout. She briefly wondered what became of the Dog-men but quickly brushed it aside. The remainder of her trip to Corwin proved uneventful, though when she arrived, she had some trouble gaining entry. The whole town was barricaded in, with guards lining the walls. Apparently, they thought her some kind of undead, unsurprising considering the state of her clothes. Showing her guild ID and recent wounds were enough for them to let her in. She dropped her breastplate and pauldrons off at the nearby smithy for repairs and then purchased some new threads. Afterward, she found lodging and took a bath. Cut to the present time, and here she was waking from a nap! 

That dream though... 

Looking down her left, next to the tub was a towel, a bathrobe, her traveling pack and most importantly of all, her father’s dagger. She reached down to grab it. Releasing it from its scabbard, a smile rose on her face as she looked upon it. 

There was, unfortunately, still traces of blood on it. Taking her washcloth, she carefully scrubbed until the shimmer of its steel was restored. It had been eleven years now since her father disappeared. Even still, he left behind mementos for each of his children. Arle believed she inherited the best one of all, for dad was rarely seen without it. Every time she held it, she felt like he was not far from her. Still to have such a dream not so long after these recent events? 

Coincidence? 

It didn’t matter. Sheathing it, she held it to her chest and closed her eyes. She still had the stag sculpture he crafted for her at home, resting on the nightstand next to her bed. She looked forward to the next time she’d see it. 

“Watch me, dad...” 


	7. Notes and Commentary

_Thus, c_ _oncludes the first entry of A Tale of Sorcery! Where do we go from here? I have some ideas ^^_

_If_ _yer_ _reading this, thank you for reading my fic! I consider this my first real attempt at fanfiction. Do give some feedback! I look forward to hearing your thoughts and opinions!_

_A special thank you to_ _JelliPuddi_ _! Their encouragement finally gave me the motivation to finish the story. I also learned about the original_ _Madou_ _Monogatari_ _games through their wonderful summaries!_

The shopkeeper in the prologue is based on the one that appears in Madou Monogatari III after Arle escapes from the woods. Is he the same guy? Undecided on the matter... 

Arle uses her original MSX outfit here. Call me crazy but I kinda prefer it over her finalized outfit. 

Schezo was meant to use his PC98 threads but I had difficulty putting them into words. I just settled on his more recognizable white outfit. 

The original MSX and PC98 games had a very distinctive visual style, which struck me as a mix between Greek and Celtic. Schezo himself wouldn’t look out of place as a sentry for the temple of Zeus. I decided a polytheism religion would mesh well with such a setting. 

According to the later games, Schezo was apparently over a century old when he kidnapped Arle. The fallacy behind how a century seasoned mage hunter could lose to a girl who hadn’t fully earned her stripes was never properly explained, other than him being an idiot. His powerset her is adjusted to reflect that. 

In earlier drafts, Schezo came off as a lot more villainous. In fact, Arle was originally going to wake up with all her clothes gone, with only a ratty worn tunic for modesty (though that was done by the mercs her hired)! Originally it was he who killed the slavers (which were an all-female group) and stashed them in what became the treasure room in the final release. Arle would stumble upon them and deduce he was a serial killer! His affable aspects were also downplayed and he just came off as a straight-up bad guy. This was changed as it made him a lot less sympathetic and would make possible future appearances a harder sell. 

The Gnolls are based off the Dogman mobs that appeared in the PC98 version of Madou Monogatari II. Think they were just called “Dogmen” there but I recall hearing they were named “Gnolls” in the MSX version., 

The games were old 80’s dungeon crawlers so their environments were all labyrinths. Interesting visual experience but not a very interesting or easy locale for a story. As such, Schezo’s hideout takes cues from something you’d see in Skyrim. I still kept the rock and vine details though. 

In the games, Arle loses her magic spells when Schezo abducts her. Here I switched it to her power in general. It made things more suspenseful, plus it forced Arle to strategize. 

Schezo didn’t have a “red hand” in the original, it's just a story expansion. BTW. Who do you suppose it belonged to? 

Arle kneeing Schezo in the junk was something I’ve wanted to do for years. Glad I was given the opportunity here! 

In the games, Diacute is supposed to make the user stutter after repeated use. I decided not to use it that detail here. Something about it just...rubs me the wrong way. 

Despite only happening in the PC98 version, Arle decapitating Schezo has become one of the most iconic moments in the series. This is funny because, in the context of the game, it makes absolutely no sense! Seriously he starts bleeding profusely even before his noggin comes off and Arle only had access to basic elemental spells! How does fire, ice or lightning do that?! As such, I just had to give my own spin on it! I think my version compensates for the lack of gore with a more logical approach but you decide! 

The battle with Schezo’s disembodied head is even less explained, other than “He’s a wizard. He knows magic. He can do that!”. I disagree, and if I get in far enough a proper explanation will be given. Aside from that, I’m really not sure how the Schezo head attacks in the PC98 game...so I just had him doing rushing headbutts.

With the Schezo head, I wanted to give a shout out to The Thing with Arle saying the memorable “You gotta be fucking kidding me” line. However, I felt it would be out of character for Arle to just drop an F-Bomb like that so... 

The expanded lore on Arle’s family, the changes to the school system and the more elaborate world setting stem a bit from what I thought was the game's storyline before I read Jelli’s summaries. Arle doesn’t look like a 16-year-old in the PC98 cutscenes, so I assumed she was out of school and encountered Schezo and Rulue during her travels. The ending for the first game doesn’t help matters, giving the impression that by the time the second game starts, it looks Arle was already finished with school. 

I’m aware giving her siblings is one of the oldest fanfic tropes in the book but here, I wanted to challenge myself. We all know Arle as that silly happy girl from Puyo but what if she was put in a more realistic setting? When I write, I want to challenge myself and Arle herself has been a fairly challenging character to write. What’s beneath that shiny exterior of hers? Self-doubt, self-esteem issues and a desire to prove herself? As it stands, I want my Arle to be a more slightly defined character. Similar to her canon self but different in the details. 

And yes I’m aware of the concepts of “Mary-Sues”. Rest assured, when her siblings do finally show up, I’m gonna do my damndest to avoid that pitfall. 

Guess that’s all for now! I was thinking of adding an Appendix to expand on some of the world bits but I wanted to complete this first. Would you be interested in seeing it? Let me know! 


End file.
